Apes bestiality.
| ENTER - Apes bestiality . |
Suddenly it came to me in a flash, exactly what had happened. This new company, deprived of an official policy prohibiting sexual harassment in the workplace, had become the worst case scenario of what could happen without one. They'd all gone insane with sex, and it had now spread to an outside would where innocent children could not even pour a bowl of their breakfast cereal without being exposed to Profit Pusher's rampant smut!
"Sales of our new cereal are pretty slow, actually," Bootingaily said, scratching his chin. "Do you think if we had one of those sexual ass-cement policies, we could foster a workplace in which we might thrive?"
"Sexual HARASSMENT," I corrected him, "and yes, I think you have no other option but to stop the insanity right now! Call your lawyers and have them crank out something today!" "Oh, I will, Miss McTippit, I will," Bootingaily said, repentant. "In the meantime, is there anything I can do to dissuade you from running a negative story about us, just until we institute a sexual harassment policy?"
"Well..." I said. "I'm not sure...." He smiled. "How about I come around this desk and fuck your cute midwestern pussy till you pass out? I bet you'd look really lovely with a nice pearl necklace." Then he slapped his head as I leapt to my feet in outrage. "I'm sorry, that just slipped out!"
"The story runs tomorrow," I told him, turning away with purpose and determination. It was then that he hit me with the lowest blow of all, which was an offer to go down to the production floor and pull the giant handle that released the honey coating onto two thousand pounds of soon-to-be Toast-B-Qs. Despite the absurdly obvious symbolism of that act, I couldn 't resist. I was suddenly not just an eater of cereal, I was, for just a moment, a creator of it! In return I offered to give them one last chance. I would come back in two weeks to see if things had become normal around that carnal zoo they called a corporation.
Damn those freaks, their perversions were even starting to creep their way into my own mind. Sitting down at home after my flight from Salt Silo to eat the tasty contents of that shiny box of Shove That Cock Inside Me (waste not, want not), I was seized with a strong urge to change into a bra and panties and watch men's golf on ESPN. But I resisted, and even though my dreams that night were tortured by images of men in bikini briefs, and me on the production floor of Profit Pusher whipping them on to churn out the cereal faster, faster, faster, I was okay by morning, and I'm proud to say that my hands strayed only once into my No-Zone. Meanwhile, I was very interested indeed in what I would find in Salt Silo in two weeks' time.
Personal bestiality collection
Only eight days passed before I had to rush back there, my anger roiled as it had never been roiled before. On the Tuesday after I had met Ted Bootingaily for the first time, I received a coupon in the mail for a free box of Profit Pusher's newest banana-flavored cereal. GREETINGS, VALUED CUSTOMER! it read in bold green Century Gothic type (a personal favorite font of mine since childhood, which made what came next even worse somehow). THANKS FOR TAKING THE TIME TO EXPRESS AN INTEREST IN OUR PRODUCTS! HELP YOURSELF TO A FREE SIXTEEN OUNCE BOX OF JIZZALICIOUS TITTYFUCKS, APPEARING AT A GROCER NEAR YOU NEXT MONTH! A PRIZE IS INCLUDED IN EVERY SPECIALLY MARKED PACKAGE
----WILL YOU GET THE DILDO OR THE COCK RING? OPEN IT UP AND FIND OUT! Within hours I was walking into the offices of Profit Pusher, pad and pen in hand, and this time nothing could stop me from running the story of the century. Nothing, that is, but the wall of bodies I stumbled into upon pushing open the glass door that led into the reception area.
There must have been fourteen or fifteen people in there, all of them obviously Profit Pusher employees, engaged in every sort of sexual act imaginable. Half-dressed, one-quarter-dressed, and not dressed at all, they copulated with abandon, on the front desk, under the portrait of Martin Luther King on the south wall, and beside the Anne Geddes calendar on the west one. Ties, belts, cufflinks and panty hose lay everywhere. One woman was getting humped from behind while she bent over the copy machine, her fingers working the TRAY SELECT button with admirable, but disgusting, concentration. Another woman was deep-throating a man's penis as he sorted through his personal electronic organizer, searching for an elusive phone number. A tall couple, both dressed in the most formal of business attire, were intercoursing on the floor directly in front of me, and as they did so, they discussed the proper formatting for a loss prevention spreadsheet due on someone named Dicky's desk that Friday.
When I was younger my best mate was Stuart, and he had a sister called Stephanie, she was 18 years old and a quiet sort, she was thin and pretty, with brown hair and hazel eyes that would look down at the ground or to the walls when talking to you, a shyness that would never allow her to make eye contact. I had often thought of her in ways other than a friend's sister, but I knew that nothing could really happen...
I was round Stuarts house helping him to decorate his bedroom; his bedroom was joined to his sisters by a doorframe that had been partitioned by a loose piece of board to give each other some privacy. I was aware of Stephanie being in her room with a friend, but acted bored by their giggles and laughter coming through the partition.
We were working on the room when Stuart said he was going out to the local DIY shop to get more paint and could I stay here to keep an eye on the girls as they were always causing trouble left on their on.
I knew he was going to be gone at least an hour and thought nothing more than wanting to get on and finish the job so I could go home. I didn't notice that the giggling next door had stopped and been replaced by low voices until a head came round the partition, it was Christine, she was Stephanie's best friend, same age but a lot more forward. She was of similar build but had blonde hair. She asked if I was busy and if I would come into Stephanie's bedroom for a few minutes.